


Sylvix Week 2019

by Cyhyr



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Body Worship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-War, Sick Character, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-16 16:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21039287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyhyr/pseuds/Cyhyr
Summary: My fills for the event week celebrating the relationship between these two emotionally constipated idiots. tags and summary will be updated as necessary. If the rating is not explicitly mentioned here, it's a GDay 1: ReunionDay 2: SoulmatesDay 3: FairytaleDay 4: Bodyswap (Rated M)Day 5: Arranged MarriageDay 6: Fake RelationshipDay 7: Family





	1. Reunion

It would be two years until Sylvain saw Felix again. Edelgard’s forces destroying the monastery eventually scattered the Blue Lion house and while the threat of invasion from the Empire was significant and imposing, Sylvain was not allowed to forget about the constant threat of Sreng to Gautier territory. With the Lance of Ruin in hand, Sylvain returned home. For two years he rode back and forth between the northern and eastern boundaries of Gautier land. He didn’t have time to catch his breath, let alone fall ill.

Yet still, illness caught up with him.

With a burning fever and a cough threatening to put him in an early grave, the Gautier colonels forced Sylvain to bedrest and led the battalions themselves. By the end of the fifth day, unable to even keep down fluids, Sylvain was sure he was hallucinating. 

It couldn’t be Felix, afterall. The Fraldarius dukedom was hot with battles; there was no way his father would have approved Felix detouring this far east, not when the agreement between their Houses was such that Gautier would cover the eastern and northern fronts and Fraldarius the western and social fronts. And yet someone with dark hair and Felix’s scowl was changing the cloth on his forehead and helping him sip water. Sure it  _ could _ be the Duke himself, but there was the whole issue with the social front at which Felix had no skill. 

“Pull through, Sylvain,” he muttered. “Your men need you.”

Sylvain drifted. He dreamt of climbing trees and days spent running and laughing. Lines of girls, single file, all faceless and monotone. Amber eyes lit by candlelight and whispered promises they should have known they couldn’t keep. Chasing and chasing and reaching and never quite--

“Lord Fraldarius, you’re needed for tactics.” 

“I approve of whatever the generals decide.”

“My lord--”

“You don’t need me, you need  _ him _ . I’m needed here. I’ve no care for tactics and planning. Let the Imperial army come and I’ll put my blade through every one of them.”

Sylvain had a hand in his own and stared at the ceiling of the tent. When did he wake up? He turned to look and sighed to see Felix at his side. Once he had Felix’s attention, he cleared his throat and grumbled, “You look like shit.”

A bare palm pressed against his forehead, and then Felix drifted his fingers down the side of his face to his throat and pressed two to his pulse. The scowl softened to a barely-there frown. “Your fever broke in the night, but your pulse is still too fast. You should eat, if you can.”

“Have you slept at all?” 

“Not since I heard you were on your deathbed.”

“I meant that as a joke.”

“I didn’t.”

Felix stood and crossed the tent and filled a mug with water. Before he came back to Sylvain’s side, he stuck his head outside and muttered something to the guards standing there. Once he returned to his seat, he helped Sylvain sit up and held the mug for him to drink. 

“Not too much,” Felix took the mug away. “You haven’t kept anything down since I got here.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two weeks. I only got here three days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in three days?”

Felix shrugged. “Your camp couldn’t spare constant care and you needed it.”

“Still that’s--”

“I don’t want to hear it. You still need to rest.” He stood up and stretched, then began to walk to the door. “Someone will be by with food. Try to eat.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find a pad or a cot I can sleep. Even when passed out you’re exhausting to be around.”

Sylvain laughed, which turned into coughing. When he opened his eyes again, Felix had returned to his side, scowl firmly back in place. Sylvain waved him off. “I’m okay, really. You said my fever broke, and I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore. Just.”

He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

Felix walked away. 

“Felix!” Sylvain stopped him. “Don’t leave without saying good-bye, okay?”

The scowl turned to frown and then to the ghost of a smile. “You neither.”


	2. Soulmates

Sylvain knew before his mark appeared whose name would be branded on his skin. He’d had a sinking feeling in his stomach all day, a twitch in his leg he couldn’t run out, and an itch on his forearm that he had to wrap to keep from scratching himself raw. He’d known for years who his soulmate was going to be. When he thought about it really, was there ever any doubt? 

He wandered around the monastery, his paths known by muscle memory and guided by a sliver of the moon. Edelgard was due to arrive with her army within a week and here he was, waiting for a soulmate he knew he couldn’t have in any way that mattered. He carried his jacket over his shoulder and rushed through the stables, past the knights’ quarters, and down the path to the cathedral. With the reception hall at his back and the looming shadow of the cathedral in his way, Sylvain stopped. 

The rush of blue and gold light on his wrist alerted him to his branding. He leaned on the railing of the bridge and watched the name he knew was going to appear write itself on his skin.

_ Felix _

Once the name burned out, he relaxed. He wouldn’t be the first noble to be denied a life with his soulmate, nor the last. 

For the first time, he walked into the church and sat down on one of the benches and prayed. His stomach settled as he thought through why the goddess would put him and Felix together in this way. He wasn’t unhappy but...they had responsibilities. One of which was to continue their family lines. How did the goddess expect them to work when they would have wives and lands and subjects to maintain? 

And all this, just as war and Edelgard’s army were days away.

“I didn’t think you were particularly religious.”

Sylvain smiled and looked to his right. Felix settled down beside him and crossed his arms. 

“I’m not,” he answered. “But things change when your branding occurs.”

Felix scoffed. “For a time, I suppose. I didn’t feel any particular influx of piety when mine happened.”

“Already?” Sylvain gawked.

“A year and a half ago,” Felix nodded. 

“So then you know.”

Felix nodded again, and rolled up his sleeve. A mirror image of his own branding stared back at him and in the candlelight, Sylvain was able to make out his own name. Sylvain turned his arm over and there, side-by-side, was the goddess’s branding to show that they belong to each other. He couldn’t help a smile. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was obvious,” Felix said, pulling his arm back and righting his sleeve. “Who else would it have been?”

“Dimitri?” Sylvain put his hands up in surrender when Felix turned and narrowed his eyes at him. “Joking, joking. But really, how long did you know?”

Felix turned away, but the candles in the cathedral and the barely-there moonlight betrayed his flush. “Like I said, who else could it have been?”

“Sometimes the branding shows a name you’ve never heard of before.”

“I’ll leave.”

He reached out and snatched Felix’s hand and laced their fingers together. If anything about tonight was surprising, it was that Felix allowed it. “I’ve known it was you since we were kids. I remember reading a fairy tale about soulmates when I was seven and thinking of you.”

The silence stretched thin and Sylvain nearly pulled his hand back. He’d overstepped. Felix couldn’t have known since--

“I don’t remember a time when I didn’t think it was you.”

His previously settled stomach flipped. The smile finding his lips wouldn’t be deterred. Sylvain turned to face Felix fully and brought his other hand up to Felix’s cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

Felix scoffed. “Not even a first date?”

“I took you out to lunch just the other day.”

“That was--”

“Please?”

Felix closed the distance. Their brands lit up under their sleeves but they were lost in the kiss. When Felix started to pull away, Sylvain leaned in closer and held his head still so he could snatch one more taste of Felix’s lips before letting him go. He watched, delighted, as Felix’s cheek burned a fetching pink under his palm, and then let his soulmate turn away to spare his dignity. 

Their hands stayed linked together on the bench between them.


	3. Fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm tired and there's only a half hour left of today  
maybe someday i'll fix this

There once was a boy with hair like a flame who lived in the most frigid of the frigid north. Like a fire in winter, the boy was a balm to all he met; he was gentle, kind, and had a smile made of sunlight. But he was born to the Gautier, a family of warriors, and as he grew the warmth he exuded was kindled to a flame of power and released onto his family’s enemies. Little by little, with each battle he won, the boy grew stronger and the flame became more wild.

Soon enough he became too wild for his family to control. He was placed upon his horse and guided to a battle wherein he was expected to die. His family mourned the loss of their strongest warrior, but the approaching enemies from another front soon stole their grief and replaced it with the same single-minded focus of battle that had caused the boy to be sent away.

Years passed and the boy was nearly forgotten. Then one day, scouts came back from the north with tales of a Black Knight guarding a deep cave and burning all who dared come close. Margrave Gautier placed a bounty of 1000 gold upon the Black Knight’s head and sent explorers to bring back whatever treasures the cave held.

A troop of knights trained by the Margrave guided by the lord’s cartographer left the Gautier castle within the week. Only the cartographer returned, but she described a horror of flame and snow and the whistle of a thrown lance such that the Margrave became more sure that the Black Knight was guarding something precious and he _ wanted_. He raised the bounty to 1500 gold and sent word to neighboring territories.

The tale of the Black Knight reached House Galatea along with rumors that magic was in play. As such, Count Galatea sent a company of Pegasus knights along with his eldest son to secure the bounty. They arrived at Castle Gautier within three days and returned, obliterated, in another week. Again the story of flames and wind were whispered in the infirmary. It had been a brutal fight and yet the company fell to one man. The eldest son of House Galatea returned home with the lives of his knights heavy upon his back.

And still Margrave Gautier raised the bounty. 2000 gold to the warriors who would bring him the head of the Black Knight of the north. It came to such that the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery sent along their most skilled students. Into the tundra they went. 

A week passed. Then another. Not one of the students returned.

Margrave Gautier raised the price once again. After the loss of the brightest sorcerers in the land, no other House sent aid to House Gautier fearing the loss of their own forces. At 3000 gold pieces, a band of thieves came before the Margrave in the night and made a deal that their leader would have his inheritance reinstated when they returned with the Black Knight's head. The Margrave agreed, but his son would only go if he was given his inheritance first.

With the Gautier treasure in hand, Miklan Anschutz Gautier lead his band of thieves into the tundra. It was the last time the Margrave saw his eldest son. It also became known that the Margrave had lost the Lance of Ruin and as such, the enemies his House fought so fervently against prepared to invade yet again.

Heirless and weaponless, the Margrave raised his army and planned an attack. No longer did House Gautier desire the Black Knight’s head--the Margrave wanted the knight alive. Justice needed to be dealt and he would deal it himself if he must.

But before he could lead his knights north, one more Soldier requested an audience. The Crested son of House Fraldarius, sword at his side, asked the Margrave for a chance to test his blade upon this Black Knight. The Margrave was already armored and ready to ride, and the friendship he held with Duke Fraldarius would strain to break should the Crested son not return.

He sent the boy home and readied his knights. He’d already lost his own Crested heir; he wouldn’t cause another House to lose theirs.

The Crested son of House Fraldarius would not be deterred. He’d asked permission as a courtesy, but once he was outside the Gautier castle walls, he turned north and journeyed into the tundra. He walked for days, following paths unknown to human feet, eating bread from his pack as it slowly went stale and drinking melted snow. His shelters were small and cold but they kept out the wind and scavenging animals.

When his bread ran out, he knew he was in trouble. He hunted unsuccessfully and instead filled his belly with snow to keep it from cramping. Two days later he began to regret his decision to make the excursion. The coming blizzard in the distance only furthered his readiness for death. He closed his eyes and waited along a cliffside for the north to claim him.

When he woke it was to a warm cave and gentle firelight and a tall figure in blackened leathers watching him. His face was shadowed from how he was turned from the fire, but there really was no mistaking the lineage from which that hair could have come. From underneath a pile of heavy furs, the Soldier stared back. 

The Black Knight was the one to break the silence. “Why are you here?”

His chest was wrapped but otherwise bare. His clothes hung on the wall beside his swords across the cavern, leaning against the wall and mocking him with their distance and uselessness without his hand to guide them. He tried to sit up but something pulled in his chest that stalled his breath and forced him to relax back into the bedding. “I came to find you.”

Beside his swords, the Lance of Ruin glowed and twitched against the wall. 

“I am found.”

The Knight strode out of the cave, taking the Lance as he passed. 

The warmth of the fire and the comfort of the furs lulled the Soldier to sleep once more.

He woke again to a bare palm on his forehead and the thrum of white magic pressing into his chest. The Knight would not catch his eye, but said, “You have pneumonia. Once the blizzard has passed, I will bring you back to Gautier.” The knight spooned a broth into his mouth and helped him sip water from a mug. “Why are you here?” he asked again.

“I came to test myself,” came the answer.

“You have failed.”

And again, the Soldier slept.

The blizzard continued for several days and the Black Knight continued pressing his meagre white magic into the Soldier’s chest. It was enough that he was able to feed himself by the third day. He watched the Knight light fires and thrust the Lance into the air. Later, the Knight came back into the cave from hunting with a light cut on his cheek. While he ignored it as he dressed down his kill, the Soldier stood on shaky legs and hovered his palm over the Knight’s face. White magic came to his bidding and sealed the cut away. The Knight helped him back to the furs.

“Why are you here?”

He thought about his answer this time. “I came to learn from you.”

The Black Knight laughed once, and it sounded like warmth and sunlight. “I’m no teacher,” he said, and went back to his work.

The blizzard passed and he stepped outside the cave, his own clothes righted and his swords back at his hip. At the mouth of the cave stood a shelter for the Knight’s horse. He wondered if the Margrave would ever find this place. Beside him, the Knight donned his black armor and then took to horseback. He held out a hand and pulled the Soldier to sit behind him. It would be a day and a half’s ride back to Gautier. 

That night, after they dug in their shelter and wrapped the horse for the cold, the Knight asked him one more time. “Why are you here?”

And finally, he answered with the raw truth. “I came to kill you.”

Laid side-by-side in a pile of furs, the Knight smiled and took his hand. It was a gentle, easy smile, but one with little warmth. “I’ve been dead for years.”

“You look alive to me.”

As one they leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. The kiss that followed was quick and chaste, but it made him breathless all the same. He whispered, “Come home.”

“To be sent away again? No thanks.”

“Not to Gautier. To _ me_.”

Indeed, in the morning the two rode by Castle Gautier and further south into Fraldarius. It took a few more days to arrive at the Fraldarius Manor, but the Black Knight was welcomed with open arms as the one who returned the Crested Son of Fraldarius to his father. The wild in his veins gave way to the gentleness and kindness he had been known for in his youth and the flames of battle were tamed back to the balmy warmth he used to have.

The Gautier enemies returned to their homes when the new Margrave was named, Lance of Ruin in hand and the Crestbarer of Fraldarius at his side.   



	4. Bodyswap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Established relationship. Rating has now been established at M 
> 
> Day 4: Bodyswap -- Felix and Sylvain, while under the effects of magic that switched their minds from their bodies, show each other what they like in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry my excessive italics from my cold dead hands.  
This is the closest I get to writing smut. I did my best but I'm really no good at this.  
But ya can't write bodyswap without it ending in at least oral, so.

Felix did not like dark mages, nor dark magic, nor the effects of being hit with spells that students who amount to large children cast with the excuse of, “I just read about its theory ten minutes ago and you and Sylvain both have a weird knack for Reason so could you watch as I attempt it.” And _of course_ Sylvain said yes because the student in question was a girl and it’s not like _Felix_ has somewhere to be so what’s the harm.

What’s the harm.

“The harm,” is that he’s currently sitting in the infirmary in a body that is five inches too tall sitting across from _his_ body, which feels as weird as it sounds. And _damn_ Sylvain for being so calm and casual in Felix’s body like he owns it. It was just the two of them in the room, waiting on Professor Manuela and Hanneman to come back with a solution.

“What are you doing,” Felix growled. It came out sounding _wrong_ in Sylvain’s timbre, but it caught the attention it needed.

Sylvain stopped unbuttoning his vest and grinned—there was a _reason_ he didn’t make that kind of face it looked _weird_. “Checking you out without risking you storming away from me,” Sylvain said, and went back to undressing. He stood up and turned to the mirror in the corner and leered as he shrugged off the vest and started in on his shirt.

“Stop it.”

“Felix, c’mon. You’re gorgeous and this is a great opportunity to _really _get to know what we both like. I mean, who better to teach me what feels good for you, than you?

“I don’t think I understand,” Felix said slowly.

Sylvain sighed—_finally,_ a sound that wasn’t odd coming from his body’s mouth. He took the few steps back to the bed Felix was still sitting on and leaned in. “You know what really gets my body going?” Sylvain murmured against his lips. He didn’t wait for Felix to respond, just dipped his head down and dragged his teeth lightly along his collarbone.

Felix felt every skip of teeth on bone, the odd angle of his jaw against Sylvain’s body, and the jolt of pleasure followed by a breathless gasp. The sound of his own chuckle echoed in his head and then Sylvain said, “Do you understand now?”

“I—” Oh, he did, but… “We’re still in the infirmary.”

“And?”

“Anyone could walk in?”

Sylvain put Felix’s vest back on and held out a hand. “We’ll leave a note for Professor Manuela.”

As with most things involving Sylvain recently, Felix was helpless to resist. Side-by-side, they made their way back to the dormitories with no further interactions with other students, dark mages or otherwise. In silent agreement, they passed Felix’s room and entered Sylvain’s and once the door shut behind them, Sylvain pounced.

He dug fingers into deep red hair and pulled Felix down to a kiss. It was hungry and wet and delicious, and Felix _may_ understand now why Sylvain enjoys kissing him so much if it feels this nice in this body. Felix wrapped strong hands around a slender waist and marveled at how thin he felt next to Sylvain. It was an interesting juxtaposition. Even the hair-pulling gave him a pleasant tingling sensation.

Sylvain walked him backwards until his knees hit the bed. Once seated, they both undressed to the waist and continued the kiss with Sylvain in Felix’s lap. Felix gasped when their bare chests brushed for the first time and Sylvain took advantage and deepened the kiss. While Felix held Sylvain steady on his thighs, they soon began to gently rock together and Felix had to pull back and catch his breath.

It was just so much. So much sensation, so much pleasure—how did Sylvain _deal_ with it? Sylvain trailed kisses back down to his collarbone and dared to drag teeth along the thin skin there and Felix _moaned_.

“It is really like this for you all the time?” he gasped.

Sylvain sat up and held onto his shoulders. He certainly didn’t look unaffected, but he did seem…frustrated. “Am I doing this wrong or is it always just this…bland? Usually when I’m—you know, in my body—and I get to kiss you all over it riles me right up but like. You really don’t like this?”

Like muscle memory, Felix grinned, and the look Sylvain gave him told him that he got the _mischievous_ smile perfect. He pulled Sylvain closer to himself and stood them up, turned them around, and dropped them back onto the bed. And _there_ was the gasp and dilated pupils that he knew were his body’s way of saying _oh that was nice_. “The problem, Sylvain, is that you’re using my body the way you would use your own.”

And then it was Felix’s turn to show Sylvain what he liked. He pressed their hips together and rested the length of Sylvain’s body against his own. He reached up and pulled out the string holding his hair up and swept most of it to one side; the other, bare side of his neck was ripe and pulsing and Sylvain whined when Felix ghosted kisses over pale flesh. He shifted and pushed a knee forward to force Sylvain to spread his legs and then carried his kisses down his chest.

Every drag of teeth, every press of their hips, every slide of their lips—Sylvain had taught him well over their time together and he used every move that had once driven him to the edge and back to pull gasps and moans and heaving breaths from his partner. When he heard a desperate whine, he knew to bite; a sigh meant to kiss; a moan meant to scratch. He knew his own body well enough that giving Sylvain perfect pleasure while he was trapped inside it was easy.

And of course, it worked for him, too. Sylvain enjoyed giving pleasure and _oh_ Felix understood why. He tasted sweat and musk and it should have been odd, worshipping his own body, but inside it was still Sylvain and it was never odd to love Sylvain. He understood, at a level, why they worked well together; but here, feeling as Sylvain always felt and smelling and tasting and hearing his own body react to Sylvain’s and how Sylvain’s body reacts in turn—

“Felix, I’m going to ruin your pants.”

“Don’t you _dare_.”

“Then get my mouth around your dick before—_oh fuck yes_.”

Maybe dark magic wasn’t _so_ bad.


	5. Arranged Marriage

Once the fighting was done and order restored to the Kingdom, Sylvain returned home to find that his mother had been busy for the past few years. Specifically, busy in finding him a noble girl to settle down with. He’d barely put his horse in the stable and walked into the living area of Castle Gautier when his mother accosted him with a hug and a whispered warning.

“Be on your best behavior.”

He was still in his riding armor when he met the girl for the first time. She had been sent to live in Gautier two years ago and was comfortable with the staff and the castle. With his mother’s warning in mind, he kissed the girl’s hand and smiled and shared pleasantries.

“We weren’t sure when you would be home, so we haven’t sent out announcements, but don’t worry,” his mother reached over and patted his knee, “I know the other Lords of the Kingdom will send their best once you two are wed.”

His mouth dried out. “When’s that going to be?”

The girl answered, “As soon as your garments are sized. The end of the week, perhaps?”

His mother’s smile lit the room brighter than the fire in the hearth. “Yes, that sounds perfect. Oh, Sylvain, your father will be so pleased to see you finally with a wife on your arm!”

“Right, because it would have been so convenient to have a woman during the war.”

“What would we have done,” his mother’s voice chilled, “if you’d died out there with no heir to speak of?”

Sylvain couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, “Father would have found a younger woman to have a Crest baby with and claimed it, bastard or no.”

“You should have married before we sent you to Garreg Mach.”

“All we can do now is look to the future.” Sylvain stood and bowed to the noble girl. “I’ll see you on our wedding day, I guess. Good night.”

He had less than a week to come up with a plan to get out of this. The worst part was that the girl didn’t deserve this—she can’t have known what she was getting into when her parents decided to sell her to Gautier. Instead of going to his room, he went back out to the stables, saddled his horse, and rode into the night. The chill was deep, but not nearly as bad as his mother.

In the morning, he found himself trotting up the path to the Fraldarius Manor. The stablehands took his horse from him and led her away while he stepped into the foyer of the manor and requested to see the manor’s lord. The butler nodded and led him through the manor and when they stopped in front of the armory, said, “His Grace will be pleased to see you, Lord Sylvain.”

He went in alone and found Felix scowling at the Aegis Shield as it hung on the wall. For once, he kept his silence as he went and stood just behind Felix’s left shoulder and waited.

“Why are you here?”

Sylvain answered, “I needed to get out of Gautier.”

Felix huffed. “You should have gone farther south. Ingrid would be a better choice.”

“Yeah, but my horse brought me here.” He stepped closer and pulled Felix into a quick, tight hug. “She knew where I needed to be even when I didn’t.”

Felix returned the embrace and shocked a gasp out of Sylvain before he pulled back. “I heard a rumor that Lady Gautier had found you a bride.”

Sylvain groaned and tugged Felix back into his arms and rested his chin on Felix’s head. “Don’t remind me.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Felix.”

“You came to forget, I know.” Felix pulled away and, with one last look at the Shield, led Sylvain out of the armory. As they walked the halls of the manor, Felix continued, “You can stay, of course. I can have the house shut down communications, so your mother won’t hear from us that you’re here.”

Sylvain shook his head. “I think I just need a few more days to clear my head. She’ll know I came here, anyway. I mean, if she knows me at all, which—”

“Not likely,” Felix chuckled.

“Not likely,” Sylvain agreed. “But my father would know.”

“Breakfast?”

“_Please_.”

*~*~*

Three days later, a messenger came from Gautier requesting Sylvain return home for his wedding in four days’ time. Sylvain took to sparing with Felix until they collapsed, shirtless and sweaty, on the stone floor.

They literally put their heads together and stared at the ceiling. “I knew this was coming, but I thought my mother would at least let me breathe after the war before selling me off.”

“Is there any way she’d let you postpone the wedding?”

“Apparently the girl’s been living there for two years waiting on me.”

“That’s a no, then.”

Silence.

“I mean,” Felix started, but then turned his face away from Sylvain and muttered, “no, nevermind.”

“What?”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I would have to…”

“Felix.”

Felix sat up and pulled his shirt back on. Still turned away from Sylvain, he said, “Look, Lady Gautier can’t marry you off if you’re already married.”

Sylvain sat up on his knees. “I mean, yeah?”

His cheeks were flushed when Felix then turned to face Sylvain; he kept his eyes adverted, though. He tried twice to say something before it finally occurred to Sylvain what he was thinking.

“Oh goddess,” he whispered.

“Shut up.”

“Yes!”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Sylvain shuffled forward and took Felix’s hands in his own. “Marry me.”

“Sylvain—”

“Felix, we made a promise. Stay together until we die together.”

“We can’t continue each other’s line!”

“We each have cousins with Crests. We’ll name them as our heirs.”

“This can’t work.” Felix put a hand to his forehead.

“Not with that attitude.”

“We each have responsibilities to our territories.”

“I’ll renounce my title.”

“_Sylvain_.”

“I want you, have wanted you for _years_.” Sylvain said. “It just never occurred to me that I could have you.”

“Could you at least put a shirt on if you’re going to propose?”

Sylvain turned in place and grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. It was barely over his head and still crooked over his chest when he smiled and asked, “Felix Hugo Fraldarius, will you marry me?”

“To get you out of an arranged marriage. Of course.”

“No!”

Silence, again.

“Marry me because you want to, Felix, or not at all.”

After another minute of silence, Sylvain dropped his head and sat back on his heels and sighed. But before he could stand up, Felix darted out a hand and took his wrist. “Seven,” he muttered.

Sylvain tipped his head to the side. “Huh?”

“Seven years,” Felix hissed. “I’ve been in love with you for seven years and I—” He shut his eyes and tightened his grip. “Of course I want you.”

Sylvain pulled Felix’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers.

“Can I have you? Cherish you, keep you, stay by your side until we die together? Felix, will you marry me?”

“Goddess, Sylvain,” Felix gasped, and pulled Sylvain closer until their foreheads met gently. “_Yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue me, they went a little fast. They totally had a few stress-relief romps during the war. It's fiiiine.


	6. Fake Relationship

Sylvain was walking toward the dining hall with Ingrid and Annette when Felix began walking towards them, a man on a mission. Felix caught Sylain’s eye and slightly altered his course so that he was heading right for him. Behind Felix, a student followed at a distance.

Felix stepped right into Sylvain’s space and took his face in his hands. “Kiss me or she’ll never leave me alone,” he muttered.

And who was Sylvain to refuse? He grinned and wrapped his hands around Felix’s waist and pressed their lips together, completely ignoring Ingrid and Annette as they continued to the dining hall as though this was completely normal. Felix was the one to shift the kiss into something more open-mouthed, yet still managing to keep his tongue to himself. Sylvain followed Felix’s lead, tilting his head a little to give the illusion of a deeper kiss.

He pulled Felix into him more, then pulled away from Felix’s lips with one more chaste kiss and said, “Hello to you too, babe. Have a good session with the professor this morning?”

Felix ducked his head under Sylvain’s arm and turned him around, keeping an arm around Sylvain’s waist. “It went well. You should have been there, too.”

Sylvain checked over his shoulder, waving to Ingrid to go ahead to breakfast and also noting the girl that had followed Felix out of the dining hall was red-faced and glowering, but had not moved from her spot three paces in front of the door. “Aww, you know I can’t help myself seeing you get all hot and sweaty.” He ducked down and pressed his lips to Felix’s hair, whispering, “She’s still watching. Want me to walk you back to the classroom, or somewhere else?”

“Classroom’s fine, I think,” Felix muttered.

“Not how I thought our first kiss would go,” Sylvain chuckled.

Felix pinched him in the side and scowled. “Don’t make me regret this.”


	7. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an enjoyable week :)   
If nothing else it got me back into the swing of writing most evenings. Who knows maybe I'll have more fics for y'all in the future.

After a long week in Fhirdiad, Felix was looking forward to returning home. His Majesty still needed someone to hold his hand through every decision, apparently, and as the Shield of Faerghus it fell to Felix to give their king the shove forward when indecision struck. It was…pleasant, he supposed, these visits. He even would get to spend time with their old professor, now the archbishop the Church of Serios deserved; Byleth’s skills never dulled and it was always a near match when they sparred.

But truly, he missed being home. He never thought he would and had once considered renouncing his title and becoming a mercenary. That all changed four years ago.

“Your Grace,” the stablehand bowed as he approached the manor. After dismounting, he gave over the horse’s reins and began taking off his gloves. Almost as soon as he stepped through the threshold, advisors and servants all clamored for his attention and signatures, but he brushed them all aside to catch the eye of the House's nanny.

“They’re in the armory, Your Grace,” she said with a smile.

Those around him, at those words, dispersed and resigned themselves to finding Lord Fraldarius tomorrow. He made his way through the hallways of the manor to the armory and heard the clang of swords before he opened the door.

Inside, his little girl charged his husband, tiny training sword in hand and a high-pitched battle cry echoing in the room. Before her blade met Sylvain’s, the familiar twin scythes of the Gautier Crest glowed in the air before her and when she struck, Sylvain winced and grit his teeth against the might of a Major Crest and twisted out of the blow. “Slow it down, little one! I yield!”

Felix saw the laughter on his husband’s face and heard the strain in his voice. Their four-year-old was strong, and as she gained experience with her Crest would only become stronger. He applauded the show and smiled as she dropped her sword and ran to him with open arms.

“Papa! You’re back!”

He picked her up and held her, kissed her forehead, and smiled. “You almost had him, Kida.”

She giggled. “Almost! Maybe tomorrow!”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, and then caught his husband’s eye as Sylvain also crossed the armory to greet him.

“We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow,” Sylvain said, and leaned in to kiss him. Felix kept it short and chaste, as he was still holding their daughter and didn’t want her to scream at how mushy and gross they were.

“Annette showed up and took over for me,” he answered. He gave Kida one more kiss on the cheek, and then put her down. “She came at the perfect time. I was just starting to miss you both.”

Kida hugged his leg and he patted her head. “Missed you too, papa!” Then she turned and skipped away back to her sword, with which she continued her practice.

“Annette’s gonna kill us if she visits and sees her with a sword,” Sylvain said, standing beside Felix and wrapping an arm around his waist.

Felix nodded. “We’ll have to make sure Kida’s ready to avenge our deaths, then.” He yelped as Sylvain pinched his side, but melted when he kissed his temple.

“Next time, we all go. She’s not a baby anymore, a trip to Fhirdiad isn’t going to destroy her sleep schedule.”

Felix nodded. “Next time,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kida was a baby that Sylvain had found after a border raid in Sreng and is a decedent of a shared Gautier ancestor--hence the Major Gautier Crest. Sylvain jumped on that so fast and named the kid his heir and then went and married Felix because he was no longer required to have a crest baby and they all lived happily ever after the end


End file.
